Susan, Daughter of Eve
by Sreya
Summary: Susan Pevensie is Prof. Kirke's sole heir, and she visit his home in order to settle the estate after the train accident. (Forgive a slight canon error, I forgot that Kirke's home had been destroyed when I wrote this.)


It was raining when Susan Pevensie returned to Professor Kirke's house. The carriage driver carried her satchel to the door, then tipped his hat and ran back through the rain. Susan pulled out the key to the door and let herself in.

Her footsteps echoed inside as she shook the water from her hat and cloak before carefully hanging them on the rack. She checked her hair in the mirror hanging on the wall. "You're back again, Susan," she said to her reflection. She caught sight of the parlor room with the furniture covered in dust cloths. Hanging over the fireplace on the far end was a portrait of the Professor, painted when he was a young man in university. She walked close and studied it. It had the same kind eyes and mysterious smile that she remembered on the old man she'd known as a child.

"Oh, you're here, miss!"

Susan turned around in surprise. "Margaret! I wasn't expecting anyone to be here."

A servant woman with dark hair and a lined face came up to Susan and gave her a warm hug. "Someone had to open the house back up again. After being closed up for so long..." She sniffed and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. "And look at you! So grown up now, a lovely lady instead of a little girl."

Susan smiled. "It's been a long time."

"Your brothers and sister visited so often, but I suppose you were busy with your schooling... Oh, those poor, poor children!" Margaret blew her nose. "And you poor girl, losing all of them so quickly."

Susan swallowed and forced down the pinpricks behind her eyes. "You said you'd opened up the house?"

"Oh, yes." Margaret wiped her face with the dirty handkerchief. "I aired out the main rooms, and made up your room for you. Mr. Barnes left a message that he'll be here first thing in the morning to discuss the estate with you. Will you be keeping the house, miss?"

"No, Margaret," Susan turned so she couldn't see the Professor's portrait, "I don't think I shall. It's really too big for me, and too far from London."

"Oh, the Professor would be so disappointed, he always said he would like nothing more than to hear Pevensie children in the house again." Margaret sniffed into the handkerchief again. "But I suppose you're right, after all."

Susan resisted the urge to look over her shoulder - it felt like the Professor was right there behind her, frowning. She walked quickly back into the entryway, forcing Margaret to follow her. "I shall stay until affairs are settled, of course. Is there anyone besides Mr. Barnes I should speak to?"

"The town clerk if you're planning to sell, of course. And I'm sure there's someone who could help you to... to dispose of the furnishings, if you wish."

"Yes, I think so." Susan stopped at the staircase, staring up. If she imagined it hard enough, she could just see Edmund at the top, daring Lucy to slide down the bannister. "I'll take some things with me to London, but I certainly can't take all of it." As she listened to Margaret sniffling, she had a horrible thought and turned quickly. "You're not living here in the servant's quarters, are you?"

"Oh, no, ma'am," Margaret answered. "I live in town with my husband now. Mrs. Macready was the only one who still lived here at the house, and she passed on only a month before the Professor. He hadn't hired a new housekeeper when..." She stopped and blew her nose again.

"That's good, then. I suppose I should unpack my things."

Margaret carried Susan's satchel upstairs to her room, and chattered on about the games the children used to play when they spent their summers in the house. Susan's heart felt tight as she patiently listened while hanging her dresses in the closet. When she couldn't bear to listen to anymore, she sent Margaret to the kitchen to prepare supper, then sat at the window and watched the rain.

But this activity, too, was full of childhood memories - of playing hide and seek, and making up fantastic stories to pass the time.

_"Peter! Susan! It's all true. Edmund has seen it too. There _is_ a country you can get to through the wardrobe."_

Margaret left for the evening after she'd cleaned the kitchen from supper. Susan dressed for bed and tried to sleep early, but she spent most of the night tossing and turning. Just before dawn she rose and slipped into a dressing gown, then went to the kitchen to fix a warm drink. In bare feet she walked through the halls with the mug in her hand. She stayed on the main floor, and spent a good hour in the main library, looking at the Professor's books on the shelves.

When Margaret arrived to prepare breakfast, Susan returned the mug to the kitchen and went upstairs to dress. She put on a new dress and turned up her hair, then sat down at the dressing table. She carefully made up her face to hide the dark circles under her eyes and add color to her cheeks. She turned her face side to side, examining the reflection. All trace of her troubled night was hidden.

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes." Susan held the door open while a thickset man came in with a gust of wind.

"Looks like we're in for more rain," Barnes announced, hanging his hat next to Susan's on the rack and brushing his fingers over his salt and pepper hair. "Unusual amount of it, this year."

"I suppose so, sir." Susan closed the door, and then led him into the parlor - Margaret had removed the dust cloths only an hour before, and a fire crackled behind a grate in the fireplace.

Mr. Barnes sat heavily on the couch and opened his case, pulling out a sheaf of papers. "So you've decided to sell the house, Miss Pevensie. Yes, we can do that quite easily, and it will fetch a good price. Inquiries were made about it only a week after Professor Kirke's death - not many, of course, most buyers have the courtesy to wait a bit longer."

Susan again felt the discomfort of such frank talk under the gaze of Professor Kirke's portrait, but she kept her composure and sat down next to the man. "How quickly can arrangements be made? I have engagements to keep in London, after all."

"Well, there's the estate sale to conduct, of course, and you'll need to settle with the servants, but you should be able to leave in a week if necessary. Most of the paperwork can be mailed for your signature." He peered at Susan. "Aren't you a little young to be charged with all of this?"

"I'm afraid there's no one else for it." Susan picked up the papers he'd placed on the table and pretended to read them, though in all honesty she couldn't understand the first thing about them. Her father had always made arrangements for her in London, and when he wasn't available then she'd turned to Peter. But they were both gone, and she had to step up in their place. "I trust you'll be able to manage the estate in my absence."

There were a good many papers for Susan to sign, and Margaret brought a supper tray into the parlor before she was finished. Mr. Barnes helped himself to the food while he explained the percentage he would take from the sale of the estate, "to cover my expenses, of course." Susan had the uneasy feeling that he would be taking a higher percentage than was usual, but because she knew little about such matters she agreed without comment. To be honest, she didn't care about the money. She'd inherited everything from her parents and Professor Kirke - she wouldn't need to worry about finances for a very long time. She just wanted to go back to London and away from all of the memories.

Finally, Mr. Barnes was satisfied that she'd signed everything and packed the sheaf back into his case. He collected his hat and promised to be back in two days. Margaret then left to go to the market and stock the kitchen, since Susan would be staying several days. Once again, the house was empty and full of ghosts.

Susan tried to sit in the library and read, but she felt restless and her eyes skimmed the same page over and over again. She set the book aside and took to the halls, going through each room and mentally cataloguing the contents. She'd forgotten how many artifacts the Professor had in his collection, and in the back of her mind once again heard Mrs. Macready's voice as she guided people through the house. Even the old suit of armor was still there, though quite dusty from neglect. At the next door, Susan stopped. Her heart was beating fast as she opened the door and looked into the long, dark room. Across from her, light from the hall glinting on the looking glass, was a tall wardrobe.

_"It's a magic wardrobe. There's a wood inside it, and it's snowing, and there's a Faun and a Witch and it's called Narnia; come and see."_

Susan shook her head and fought back tears. "Such a silly game, Lucy," she said to the empty room. She meant to close the door and continue wandering, but instead her feet carried her across the room to the wardrobe. Her reflection in the mirror was very different from the last time she'd stood in this room. She was taller, and wore fashionable clothes instead of her old school clothes. Her face was more angular. She was, in every way possible, completely grown up - too old for foolish, childish notions.

_"Susan, we need you!"_

_She looked back over her shoulder at her friends waiting at the door. "Peter, stop being ridiculous, I can't go rushing off because of a silly game."_

_"This isn't a game, Susan, the Professor wants everyone -"_

_"Professor Kirke is a dear, but he'll just have to wait for a holiday to ask us to visit. Now, please, I'm already late." She turned around and put on her hat, smiling at her friends waiting to take her with them to the evening's party. She was almost at the door when Peter called out behind her._

_"Once a Queen of Narnia, always a Queen of Narnia, Susan!"_

_Her cheeks burned in embarrassment as her friends chuckled in amusement. Angry, she turned back to Peter. "I wish you'd stop it with this Narnia childishness! You may think it's entertaining to egg on Lucy and the others, but you're far too old to believe in such nonsense!"_

But now, here where no one was around to laugh at her, she almost believed she could hear voices inside the wardrobe.

Her hand shook as she opened the door. The scent of fur coats and moth balls was familiar, and she stepped forward, bending her head to fit inside. She reached her hand through the coats, holding her breath...

Susan's hand brushed up against old, splintering wood, pricking her fingers.

She sat down hard on the floor and covered her face as she cried. She knew then she was completely alone in the world.

When the tears dried some time later, she gingerly stood and closed the door to the wardrobe. This time her reflection was of a girl with hair falling out of its pins, a smeared face and rumpled skirt. She reached out to the glass, wishing she could step through it and become the girl she once was.

But her childhood was gone with her brothers and sister. Susan turned her back on the wardrobe and left it in darkness.

A few days later, she left Professor Kirke's house behind, and instructed Mr. Barnes to sell everything inside of it.

* * *

_Author's Note: Yes, I forgot Prof. Kirke's house was gone by this point when I wrote this in 2005. Please forgive the error, because I still love how this turned out._


End file.
